My Little Reader...

was grumpy. Oh, so grumpy after school yesterday. From the moment she set foot into my classroom she was cranky. Even our breathing was too loud for her. She had been up way too late the night before. Activity Days are fun, but it is hard to fall asleep after. So, when bedtime is normally 7:30 and you don't even get home until 8:00 and you haven't even finished showing your daddy everything you made until 8:30, then you can't even start the whole "I need a drink...my head hurts...I need to go potty..." routine until at least 8:45. Meaning of course that you don't even start trying to fall asleep until 9. Well, anyone that knows my girl knows that she needs a good night of sleep. So after dealing with her grumpy butt from 2:30 until we got home at 4:45, I was done. Ready to exile her to her room for the evening. But, of course, that would only make things worse. Until I realized that I had the perfect medicine for her. Granted, it was supposed to be a Christmas or Birthday present...but when I gave her the stack of Ramona books her eyes lit up. I got a big hug and didn't see her again until supper time at which point she was cured of all grouchiness.  I wonder if this medicine will continue to work into her teenage years??

Just what the doctor ordered

I have been feeling a bit under the weather this week. Both in my head and my heart. The allergies are making me miserable---so miserable. Who knew that you could sneeze for 10 minutes straight?? Yuck. Then the allergies turned into a head cold. Stuffy nose, sore throat, headache. Bleh. But really, those can be treated with a quick trip to the drugstore for some medicine and soft Kleenex. 

Heartache is a little bit harder to treat. Some of you know that on Sunday we once again had the talk on The Roles of Fathers and Mothers. Really? How many times in one year can we have this talk? I guess until maybe someone gets it right. I sure hope they hurry up with that. This week's speaker was extra heavy on the "good" moms stay home tossed in with a handful of guilt about all the extra benefits that kids receive by having a mom that cares enough to stay home. I left the chapel crying and waited until it was over. Double bleh. Don't get me wrong. Stay at home moms are amazing and wonderful. They do hard and meaningful work. But so do us working moms. We are amazing and we do hard and meaningful work, too.

Today was our Teddy Bear Picnic. As my principal has told me, I have started to make quite the name for myself out here and most of my families are in my classroom by request, including 6 LDS families. One of those LDS moms is a regular helper in my classroom. She is very reserved and I often find myself wondering what on earth she thinks of me. Today, though, that all became clear. During the picnic she and her husband (who I had never met) returned to the classroom for something. When they came back her husband was amazed. He couldn't stop telling me how awesome the classroom was and how thankful they were to have me as their son's teacher. He told me that his wife is always talking about the fun and creative things that we do in our classroom and that they are lucky to have me. My heart sang. And that, my friends, was just what the doctor ordered.

The "third" option

My Princess in Training has it in her head that every situation has a "third" option. The conversation might go something like this..."G, you can do your spelling homework or read for your reading log." Did you catch that? There were just 2 options there. But what My Princess in Training heard was, "G you can do your spelling homework, read for you reading log, or run down the hall to play with Robert." This has become a constant state of thinking for my girlie. Every situation seems to have a third option that has nothing whatsoever to do with what her mama has asked her to do. I am crossing my fingers that this "two week" stage is all that she gets so that when we hit those teen years she is already well past this lovely stage and will happily choose one of the two options offered to her. And yes---I can hear you laughing at me through the computer. A girl can always hope right? 

Flashback

Once upon a time, long--long ago one of my very best friends was also my next door neighbor. One of our favorite activities was "window shopping". We would get the big Sears Dream catalog and would buy everything we could imagine for our future families. The goal, of course, was to spend as much as possible. We would make lists with all the prices and pages where to find our dream items. Today in my classroom after school I overheard two adorable 8 year old girls pouring over the latest American Girl catalog, picking and choosing all the things they would buy if only they had enough money and suddenly I was taken back. The grand total was $72. It wasn't all that long ago that I ran into my long ago friend and we talked and laughed about those days. I wonder if years from now, My Little Reader will also have happy memories of her days of window shopping. As a grown-up, I have to say that window shopping is often times so much more fun than actual shopping!

One heartbroken kiddo

My Little Reader has wanted to be in student council since kindergarten. It is her dream. It didn't happen in 2nd grade and she was disappointed. She has been talking about her "next big chance" since 3rd grade started. Speeches were due this week. She was very organized, making a table of all the points she wanted to cover and why she was the best choice. She wrote her speech and read it to our new assistant principal (who by the way was supposed to be her 4th grade teacher until he decided to take a promotion and come to our school). He said it was great. I thought it was great. The kids in her class--apparently did not think it was great. They even forgot to clap. Today her fantastic ( read that one as sarcastically as you would like---me, I am using extra emphasis) teacher announced the winners by erasing the names of the "losers" beginning by erasing My Little Reader's name first. Here's hoping that next year she finally gets picked, or at least has a teacher who thinks things through before she breaks the heart of an 8 year old. Bummer. We are going to wallow in ice cream because, after all, sooner or later we all learn that ice cream is a great band-aid for a broken heart.

Dear Thursday

You are my new favorite day. Five parent helpers and Olive Garden for dinner. What could be better than that?

In the thick of it...

Courage doesn't always roar. 

Sometimes 

courage is the quiet voice 

at the end of the day saying, 

"I will try again tomorrow."

I can still picture the very first time I read this quote. It was on the cover of a journal that was for sale at the Discovery Store in Tucson Mall. I don't know where I was at in my life that this quote 

spoke so directly to my heart, 

but I bought that journal on the spot. 

I suppose it is still around here somewhere. 

But this quote continues to speak to me.

It whispers my name on days when I am just too tired. 

When the pace has been too much

and I feel defeated.

I know that it will get better.

I know that I will look back in May 

and see how much they have grown, 

how far they have come.

But today...

today I can't quite see it. 

So I am being courageous.

I am looking back at today and saying

you didn't kill me today

so I must be a little bit 

STRONGER

And tomorrow 

is a

NEW

day.

And if nothing else....

the day after that is Saturday.